Something Blue
by Neyah444
Summary: Something jingling, something blue. Merlin had never felt himself and his magic so useless in his life. Sad fic!


_AN: Believe me, it's not my style writing something like this, but I was just in a weird mood. So yeah, this is a sad one. Of course I did not intend to offend anyone, the characters views are no way reflecting mine, so no flames please, but reviews would be appreciated. I'm really nervous about this one, but I'll just shut up now.:) Let me know what you think.  
A big thanks goes to jelazakazone for betaing this. You're awesome. I love you! :)_

**SOMETHING BLUE**

Merlin made his way back to the castle to get the rest of his chores out of the way while Arthur was training. He could have stayed and watched the king sparring with Gwaine but the heat was too great and he didn't feel like spending hours under direct sunlight. Besides he had been thinking about asking the evening off, and Arthur would probably permit him that if he would be finished everything by then. He couldn't remember when he had last had an evening let alone a day off, and tonight he felt like being alone for a while with only his own thoughts for company.

While he was thinking about which task he should start with, he heard a sharp, jingling noise and saw something in the corner of his eye on the ground moving away from him.

_Something blue. _

He turned his head and searched for it, and spotted the little thing just as it was rolling under a cart. He must have accidentally kicked it as he was walking. His curiosity got the better of him, so he went to the cart, crouched and started to feel about the ground for it. When he finally seized it he stood and examined the little sphere-shaped object. It was just big enough to sit perfectly in his two palms.

It looked like a ball. It was made of rags that must have been a light blue colour once with something stuffed inside, probably more rags and something metal that made a distinct jingling sound. It had big, clumsy stitches all over its surface, definitely not made by the skilful fingers of a woman. As he turned it around to look at it more closely it made a sound again and again. The people who were crossing the yard were looking at him, the sound drew their attention but most were turning away when they saw the source of it.

Merlin decided it had to be a toy. It was dirty and worn-out, and therefore loved and probably sorely missed. No kids were in sight so he walked up the first woman who passed by.

"Excuse me, do you know whose this is?" he queried, hoping that she'd know and he wouldn't have to spend more time finding the rightful owner.

"It must be Boran's, the cobbler's son. I think I saw him playing with it a few times. Poor kid's blind and lame. Evil family…" Seemingly in a hurry she tried to get a move on, but Merlin stopped her again.

"Why do you say that? What do you mean evil?"

This got his attention, but the woman just blinked at him like he was stupid.

"I mean the man must have done something to have God punish him so, with a wife dying of childbirth and a son who's a cripple."

She lectured him as one would a small and not too bright child, then rushed away.

"Wait! Please can you tell me where this man lives?" He cried after her.

"Just down this way in that sorry excuse for a hut." She yelled, slight disgust lacing her tone, without turning back to him. She was clearly annoyed with him, but everyone knew Merlin by sight. They knew he was the manservant of the king and no one really wanted to get on his bad side.

He didn't have trouble finding the miserable hut the woman had been talking about. Just as he was knocking on the door he realized he hadn't even asked the cobbler's name, but whatever he intended to say was thrown to the wind by the sight that greeted him when the door finally opened just a crack. There stood a giant of a man in ragged peasant's clothes, his eyes puffy and red.

"What do you want?" His voice was devoid of emotion.

"I just…" He started but didn't know how to finish, so he just held up the jingling blue ball in his hand.

The cobbler made a noise that sounded like a choked back sob, but didn't say anything, he just opened the door all the way signalling Merlin that he was welcome in his home. As he stepped inside, he saw a small straw holding a tiny, meagre form of a young child, covered with only one dirty sheet. His hair was so grimy it was hard to determine it's colour, his clothes were torn and soiled, and his limbs were sprawled out at awkward angles.

But when he walked closer, he immediately saw it wasn't just dirt. It was blood. Merlin instinctively bent down to check the child's vital signs, and could barely find a pulse.

"What happened?" He couldn't conceal the panic that broke through his voice.

"I told him not to play there." The man's big muscular frame shook as he choked out the painful words. "The cart…he couldn't have seen it coming…and he wasn't fast enough. He just went after the sound of that cursed thing! I shouldn't have made it…but I've never seen him happier than when he got it…" He couldn't continue. He crashed down on the other pallet, burying his face in his palms, giving way to tears which he couldn't hold back anymore.

Merlin snapped out of his daze and sprang up.

"I'm going to get Gaius. He's the court physician, he's very good. I'm sure…" But he couldn't continue because in that moment the cobbler was on his feet again grabbing Merlin's arm gazing into his eyes blinking to see through his tears.

"No, please." He said with a gentle but firm tone leaving no room for argument. "We can't afford that. The midwife who lives nearby examined him already. She's no physician but she's quite good with herbs and such. I gave her all the money I had, and she gave him something but said that he's in God's hands now." His tear-stained face twisted in grief. "As we all are." He whispered.

What God is that? Merlin heard his own voice screaming at him in his own head. Who would allow such an unfair thing to happen? The same God Arthur and his friends, Gwaine and Lancelot believed in? Merlin had never believed in any such power, but he sure as hell wouldn't try to believe in it now. There had to be something he could do. There had to be some spell. He was the most powerful sorcerer, the defender of a whole kingdom. What use was his magic if he couldn't save a single life that is about to be cut short prematurely?

Faces flashed through his mind mercilessly. Balinor, Freya, Isolde. And now Boran. Innocent and unaware, his face wrinkled by the waves of pain and sweat covering his forehead as he was fighting his last battle with the only evil he'd ever known.

Merlin had never felt himself and the magic he possessed so inadequate and useless in his life. He squeezed the tiny ball in his hands until his knuckles turned white, willing to pour all of his pent up stress inside it. It was jingling faintly as if fearing to break the sacred quiet of the room.

"Thank you for being here." It was a sigh that only just reached Merlin's ears. The cobbler was once again sitting on his bed. His fingers twisting around each other in desperate prayer.

The boy let out a heavy sigh as his body gave up the fight at long last and his small frame seemed to relax, giving up control completely, a growing stain of urine wetting the sheets as he passed away silently.


End file.
